


off the runway

by tatoeba



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M, Modeling, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatoeba/pseuds/tatoeba
Summary: When Jongin meets Chanyeol at a runway show he doesn’t expect it to make his life suddenly more complicated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is a repost of my first ever chankai O: due to livejournal's recent TOS update, i've been slowly transferring my old fic over to ao3. most have been imported so they're backdated, but fics that were in 2 or more posts on lj i'm just gonna repost completely new like this instead. 
> 
> anyway this fic forever holds a special place in my heart so enjoy if you've never read or even if u have XD

The first time Jongin sees him, it's walking down under blinding lights of the runway, all long lean limbs moving effortlessly in an almost too-tight black suit. He reaches the end of the walk and Jongin almost forgets that it,s his turn to head out, then. He's a beat late and Baekhyun will kill him for it, later, but Jongin knows how to make up for it, and he walks down the runway with practiced ease.

He doesn't mean to look, because he knows how simple a distraction it can be to glance at the other model on stage as you pass, but Jongin can’t help it, especially considering he's never seen him before and Jongin knows all the working models in the area. He'd been a last minute replacement and had been shoved before Jongin in line not five minutes before the show and Jongin didn't see his face before he was stepping out onto the stage just as the music started.

He sees it now though, and it's soft and intense at the same time, with a sort of craziness in his eyes that Jongin isn't sure if it’s the lights playing tricks, or it’s just the way he looks. And then, then he glances at Jongin, and Jongin, who has done a hundred of these shows, almost forgets himself in the look he gets, and the small smirk that tugs at the corner of the other man's lips.

And then he's gone, whooshing past Jongin easily and Jongin jolts back into the moment, continues forward down the long runway. He stops at the end and runs a slow hand through his hair with a seductive smirk that he camera and audience loves. He turns on his heel and heads back up the stage, and Baekhyun is there, mostly frazzled as he hisses, “Good job,” and pushes him backstage toward Kyungsoo, one of the assistants, who immediately reaches out to undo Jongin’s shirt so he can switch into the rest outfit.

"Who is that?" Jongin asks, nodding over to where the newbie is sliding long, long legs into a pair of deep red slacks.

Kyungsoo darts big eyes over to where Jongin is looking and then replies, "Chanyeol. He's a friend of Baekhyun’s I think, asked him to step in when Yifan had to bail."

"Hmmm," Jongin says and ignores Kyungsoo’s curious look to focus on getting dressed.

Chanyeol, from the other side of the cramped back stage, meets his eye and holds it, and Jongin feels his stomach knot inexplicably. There’s a sort of challenge in his gaze, a slight quirk of his lips, and he’s moving back off toward the stage exit with his head held high, but he glances back at Jongin just before he disappears and Jongin doesn’t know what it is about this Chanyeol but he kind of fucking hates him.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, snapping fingers before Jongin’s eyes. “Hurry up, you have like a minute.”

Jongin apologizes quickly and throws away thoughts about Chanyeol and long legs and tiny smirks, and dresses for the next run. He ignores Chanyeol for the rest of the show, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the heat of his eyes upon him throughout the night.

 

Chanyeol has a deep voice, even deeper than his own, and it’s sort of like a low rumble of a car engine, and Jongin really, really likes it. He likes it even more because he’s the one drawing it out of him, lips skating across the warm skin of his neck as Chanyeol’s fingers clench into the shirt he’s still wearing after the run and hadn’t had a chance to take off and if it wrinkles Baekhyun will kill them both, but that’s clearly not high on a list of either of their priorities.

Jongin doesn’t know exactly how he got to this moment, how it went from holding Chanyeol’s big hand at the end of the show as they bowed, feeling soft fingertips brushing against his palm as they let go, to here and now, pressing Chanyeol up against a wall backstage where no one can see them and meeting full lips with his own.

He supposes it doesn’t even matter, really, because Jongin is still hyped up from the adrenaline of another runway show, and this is one of the easiest - and preferable - ways of channeling that energy into something that won’t get him killed. Usually Jongin goes along with Kyungsoo and Sehun, another model from the show and Jongin’s roommate, for drinks or something, but instead he’s here, with Chanyeol, this guy he doesn’t know anything about aside from his name - and he doesn’t even have the full name - but there was something there in the smug smile he’d given Jongin after the show, that Jongin couldn’t ignore.

This, though, isn’t exactly what he’d planned, but Chanyeol definitely doesn’t seem to mind. He fists a hand in Jongin’s hair, pulling him up into another kiss, and drowning out Jongin’s moan. Jongin responds but rolling his hips in a smooth circle, and Chanyeol’s teeth nip at his lower lip as he mimics the action, and Jongin’s mind starts to spin, a little. It’s easy to pull off clothes, being a model has gotten him quick at buttons and belts, and he’s tugging down Chanyeol’s skin-tight black jeans to press a hand to his growing erection.

Chanyeol’s groan rolls down Jongin’s spine, and he drags his hands up Jongin’s bare arms, then down along the front of the buttoned tank he’d been dressed in. He pops buttons one-by-one, and is almost infuriatingly slow about it, so Jongin wastes no time to wrap fingers around Chanyeol’s dick and stroke him.

“Shit,” Chanyeol gasps and Jongin chuckles, strokes him faster. He doesn’t make it long, at all, but Jongin doesn’t care, knows that he’s about at his limit too, and just jerks Chanyeol off until he trembles and comes over his fingers, his deep moan making Jongin shudder.

Chanyeol, Jongin thinks, could walk away right now if he wanted to, because there is no obligation, this wasn’t even supposed to happen, but instead he drops to his knees and he’s pulling open Jongin’s pants, and Jongin reconsiders that earlier feeling of hating him, because right now he thinks he might love him, watching as Chanyeol’s soft, red lips wrap around his cock.

Jongin clenches his fingers into fists at his sides, but he can’t hold back his groan. Chanyeol looks up at him under a mop of curly hair, and his eyes are big and round and Jongin thinks he looks rather ridiculous, but then he’s flicking his tongue against the tip, and taking even more of him in and Jongin gasps from the wet heat that clings to him.

Chanyeol swallows him down when he comes, chest heaving from the pleasure, and feeling a bit like he’s unable to move. Thankfully Chanyeol still seems full of energy because he just pulls himself together, grabs a leftover makeup towel from the side and thrusts it in Jongin’s hand.

Jongin looks up at him, at his bright eyes and big smile, and takes a step back, feeling heat crawl sickeningly up the back of his neck. He averts his gaze quickly and wipes off his hand and redresses. He should find his clothes and he should leave right now, maybe he can even meet up with Kyungsoo at the bar, and--

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, his low voice startling Jongin out of his thoughts. He’s standing right before him, and he is really tall, even though Jongin’s not short by any means, he still has to look up to meet his eyes. Chanyeol’s smiling, and he looks so different now, than he did up on the runway what feels like a lifetime ago, smirking at Jongin as he passed. He leans in close, with no sense of personal space, and Jongin instinctively leans back, eyes widening as Chanyeol’s grin makes his face look silly and scrunched up.

“It’s Jongin, right?” he asks and Jongin, not knowing what to say, just nods once. Chanyeol draws back then, looking satisfied, and Jongin breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, and his grin turns slightly smug. “That’s probably the nicest welcome I’ve ever had to a show.”

And that feeling of dislike comes slamming back. Jongin scowls.

Chanyeol just laughs. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure,” he says, and he gives Jongin a wave before he walks off, leaving Jongin in the shadows and wondering just what the hell he’s unintentionally gotten himself into.

 

“I can’t believe you bailed,” Jongin complains, glaring across the table at Yifan, who is leaning casually against the chair and flipping through a magazine. “Because of you I--” He cuts himself off, flushing as he remembers that no one knows about him and Chanyeol and he wants to keep it that way.

Yifan quirks an eyebrow at him. “Because of me, what?” he says.

“Nothing,” Jongin mutters dejectedly. “Forget it.”

Yifan gives him a look that clearly says he doesn’t believe him, but thankfully he doesn’t press. Jongin likes that about Yifan. If he’d been talking to Sehun or, even worse, Luhan, one of the other assistants that works with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, he probably would’ve been drilled to the bone about it until he spilled every last detail about his little...thing with Chanyeol.

“Whatever you say,” Yifan says, looking away again and Jongin sighs, slouching in his seat and tapping his foot on the floor. “How was Chanyeol? He didn’t fall off the stage, did he?”

“Do you know him?” Jongin asks, and hopes Yifan doesn’t notice the sudden interest in his voice.

“Yeah,” he says, “he’s a friend of mine from high school, but we also worked at the same modeling agency for a few years awhile back.”

Jongin purses his lips in thought, wondering how he’s never heard about this guy if he’s apparently good friends with both Yifan and Baekhyun.

Yifan either reads his mind or Jongin’s question is written on his face because he says, “He stopped modeling a few years ago, probably around the time you started.”

“Why?” Jongin questions.

Yifan shrugs. “Probably because he kept falling off stages.”

“That was only _one time_ ,” says a deep voice that Jongin would recognize anywhere. He straightens up quickly, looking up from his shoes to where Chanyeol is walking over with Baekhyun, that stupid big smile on his face. He glances at Jongin for a brief second, and Jongin hates how it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, before he turns to Yifan. “When are you gonna let that go?” he asks.

“Never,” Yifan replies, smirking. “But I suppose you must’ve gotten over that if Baekhyun’s brought you here.”

Jongin looks between them and says, “Why _is_ he here? Aren’t we going over fitting for the new pieces for next weekend’s show?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, staring down at his iPad, sliding his finger along the screen. “I asked him to be the lead this run.”

Jongin almost falls out of his chair. “Wasn’t _I_ supposed to do that?” he demands.

“Yeah, but you messed up the other night,” Baekhyun replies and he gives Jongin an obnoxiously bright smile. “Plus I think the opening piece will look better on him. I’ll have to adjust it, but I’ll make it work.”

“But--” Jongin starts, infuriated, but Baekhyun just smiles again and Jongin has worked for him long enough to know there’s no point in trying to argue. He slumps in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Don’t sulk, how old are you?” Yifan chides and Jongin nicks his shin with his foot under the table, which only earns him a scowl from Yifan and a laugh from Chanyeol.

Jongin doesn’t even spare him a look because he’s definitely annoyed, and he can just hear the amusement in Baekhyun’s voice when he says, “Well, since _that’s_ settled, let’s get started, shall we?”

Jongin hates his life, but he thinks, as he watches Chanyeol flounce off with Yifan and Baekhyun, wide smile stretched across his face, he thinks he might hate him most of all.

 

Chanyeol, Jongin realizes, is like a different person than he remembers seeing that first night. Offstage he’s easily excitable and constantly talking, so much so that he’s certain he’ll never stop hearing that deep voice in his head (and he purposefully ignores the fact that it hasn’t left since the other night anyway, low moans filling his ears when he has a moment to spare). Jongin, when he’s not on the runway, just likes to keep to himself mostly, but Chanyeol, who doesn’t even know anyone in the group aside from Baekhyun and Yifan seems to befriend the team within minutes, laughing and talking as he follows Yifan around like a lost puppy.

“You’re being kinda obvious,” Sehun says, having only just arrived five minutes ago. He leans back against the wall beside Jongin, dressed in one of Baekhyun’s new pieces. He’s the youngest model in the show with the least amount of experience and he has an uncanny ability to do whatever he wants and never get in trouble.

“I’m not doing anything,” Jongin says, defensive. “Just watching.”

“A little _too_ closely, if I say so.”

“No one asked for your opinion.” Jongin glares at him but Sehun remains unaffected.

"Just curious is all," Sehun says and Jongin snorts because that's a lie if he's ever heard one. "Did something happen between you two?"

Jongin thinks about the other night, about Chanyeol's rich moans and gorgeous lips stretched around his cock, and absolutely _doesn't_ think about how much that little moment has been running through his mind the past few days, how he wouldn't mind yanking him by the hair and crushing their mouths together again, if only to make him shut up for a few seconds.

He eyes Chanyeol who is currently walking down a pretend runway toward where Jongin and Sehun stand while Baekhyun assesses the way his clothes fit from the side. When Chanyeol stops at the end, he looks directly at Jongin from across the room and he smiles, and Jongin's skin crawls.

"No," he answers Sehun, as Chanyeol turns around and heads back toward Baekhyun. He knows he doesn't sound remotely convincing. "Nothing's happened."

 

"Is there a reason you're following me?" Jongin questions, stopping abruptly in the sidewalk and almost falling flat on his face when Chanyeol walks into him.

Chanyeol rubs the back of his neck, and laughs. "Um I wanted to talk to you," he says, but it sounds like a question, asking Jongin if it's okay.

"About what?" Jongin says and he's curious. After having been ignored by Chanyeol throughout the fitting session, he's surprised that the other wanted to talk to him at all.

"Can we go somewhere else?" Chanyeol says and Jongin can think of one hundred reasons why he should just walk away, and yet he finds himself agreeing and following Chanyeol to a nearby coffee shop.

They order drinks and Chanyeol burns his tongue on his first sip and Jongin wonders how this is the same guy he saw walk on stage so perfectly. He’s so lost in his thoughts that it takes him a moment to even realize Chanyeol’s speaking.

“What?” he asks, coming off a little sharper than he means to, and he shrinks back in his seat, touching his lips to the edge of his coffee cup.

“You don’t seem to like me,” Chanyeol says, matter-of-fact, and Jongin blinks. Of all the things he expected Chanyeol to say to him, this was definitely not on the list.

“I don’t even know you,” he replies, and it’s true. He doesn’t know if he likes Chanyeol or not. He takes a sip of his drink and stares at the table between them.

“Is it because I took the opening for the show?” Chanyeol says and he actually sounds worried, like he doesn’t want Jongin to hate him because of that.

Jongin shrugs. “I don’t really care about that,” he says, and it’s mostly a lie.

“You seemed like you did.”

“I’m over it.”

Chanyeol sighs and he leans back against his chair, and his long legs stretch under the table, foot bumping against Jongin’s. He pulls it back quickly, and Jongin shifts a little in his seat. “I didn’t come here to take your spot, you know,” he says, and he sounds sincere, and when Jongin actually looks up at him, he looks like he means it, too.

Jongin would like to accuse him that maybe he really did, but instead he nods, rests his cup down on the table. “I know,” he says after a long while. He glances back up at him when he remembers what Yifan had said about Chanyeol earlier and asks, “I heard you stopped modeling, though.”

“I did,” Chanyeol says, and he grins.

“Why?” Jongin can’t help but ask, because despite Chanyeol not looking or acting anything like a model right now, Jongin knows what he saw on the runway and it takes a lot of work to be that good. Jongin knows that many people think of modeling as an easy job, all it is is walking up and down a platform in pretty clothes, but Jongin’s done this for so many years, has been to enough shows and seen people not make it, giving up because it got too difficult, that he knows that’s not true at all. It intrigues him, to see someone like Chanyeol, who can clearly model well, to have just stopped.

Chanyeol laughs. “Why indeed?” he says, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling and pouting.

Jongin slouches and stares at his lap. “Fine,” he says, trying not to sound too bitter, “don’t tell me.”

“I have no reason to tell you,” Chanyeol says, “I don’t know you, either.”

He’s got a point, Jongin thinks, but he replies, dropping his voice to a low whisper, “And yet you let me jerk you off backstage.”

He kind of expects Chanyeol to be embarrassed for bringing it up, or to tell him to forget about it, but Chanyeol just looks amused as he says, “And you let me suck your dick, so what’s your point?”

Jongin really doesn’t like him. “Never mind,” he huffs, and Chanyeol stares at him with a peculiar expression on his face that makes him look a little crazy. Before Jongin can question him though, Chanyeol rests his elbows on the table and leans forward, almost too close, and Jongin pulls back, swallowing thickly as the intense look in Chanyeol’s eyes remind him of the other night.

“Want to do it again?” he asks.

 

Jongin thinks he could have used any one of those one hundred reasons to have not done this, but when Chanyeol’s lips find his, warm and smooth, and fitting perfectly against his own, Jongin thinks he would’ve been stupid to pass this up again.

His apartment was closest, and now he’s being pushed into the door as Chanyeol licks his way into his mouth, and Jongin’s just glad that Sehun is still out and probably won’t be back for another few hours. Jongin rests his hands on Chanyeol’s hips, sighs into his mouth as he kisses deeper, tongue meeting Jongin’s in an erotic dance, and Jongin feels that itch of arousal in the pit of his belly. He presses a thigh between Chanyeol’s legs, rocks against him, and Chanyeol moans, and Jongin loves that, that low rumbling noise that makes his whole body shudder in response. Chanyeol gasps against his lips, breaking away to catch his breath, and his hands are slowly sliding up under Jongin’s shirt, white-hot trails along already heated skin and Jongin is overwhelmed.

He pushes Chanyeol back, and Chanyeol looks at him in surprise, like he thinks Jongin’s changed his mind, but that’s far from the truth. Jongin walks around him, slipping out of his shoes and heading into the apartment, and he can hear Chanyeol scrambling to do the same. Jongin shuts the door to his bedroom after them and turns to quickly shove Chanyeol up against it, and Chanyeol laughs as Jongin kisses him, pulling Jongin close with fingers hooked into the belt loops of his jeans.

Chanyeol’s hair is soft between Jongin’s fingers and he steps backwards slowly, guiding him toward the bed in the middle of the room. The frame creaks a bit with their weight, and the sheets are cool against Jongin’s back. Chanyeol’s knees fit on either side of him, the insides of his thighs pressing warm against Jongin’s even through the thickness of their jeans, and Jongin thinks he’d very much like to feel this with their clothes off.

Thankfully Chanyeol seems to have the same idea, slipping his fingers up under Jongin’s shirt again, as he trails his lips down Jongin’s throat, leaving slick patches on his skin that feel really nice since Jongin is certain he’s burning up. He pulls back to tug up on the hem of Jongin’s shirt until he’s got it off, and Jongin reaches out to return the favor. He lets his fingers slide down Chanyeol’s chest, watching as Chanyeol sucks his lower lip into his mouth and his eyelids flutter in pleasure. Like this, Jongin thinks he looks really good, not like the ridiculous overgrown puppy he seemed to be earlier that day.

He yanks Chanyeol close with a hand in his hair and Chanyeol groans as their lips meet. With his other hand Jongin deftly undoes Chanyeol’s belt, the buckle clanging against the floor where Jongin throws it, and he quickly tugs open his jeans, slipping a hand down the front. Chanyeol groans again, and this time it seems to reverberate throughout the silent room, makes Jongin even hotter and work faster, wrapping his hand around Chanyeol’s erection.

It’s like that first time, hidden backstage after the show, except Jongin thinks this is much, much better, because it doesn’t matter how loud they are or how quick they have to be to not get caught. He can slowly draw out moans from Chanyeol’s throat and drink in the sounds of his harsh breathing as he strokes him, and Jongin really fucking likes watching him come apart like this.

“Jongin,” Chanyeol gasps and Jongin likes that, too, the desperation in his name, and he rubs his thumb against the head of Chanyeol’s cock in response. “Oh god,” he breathes, hot into the crook of Jongin’s neck, and Jongin doesn’t think he can take much more of this.

It’s surprisingly easy to push Chanyeol over onto his back and lean over him, pulling his jeans and underwear down his legs in one swift motion. Chanyeol looks up from his bangs, sweat making them cling to his forehead. His eyes are big and round and Jongin remembers that look from last time when his mouth was wrapped around his cock. He groans just at the thought, about how much he'd like to do that again, but that's definitely for another day. He opens the drawer on the nightstand by the bed, fumbles around packs of cigarettes and broken sunglasses for the small tube.

Chanyeol watches him closely, stokes his own dick as he waits, a small smirk playing in the corner of his mouth when he notices Jongin’s distraction, and god Jongin just wants to fuck him.  
He coats his fingers with lube and nudges Chanyeol’s knees apart, pressing in a finger and delighting in the pleased noise that Chanyeol makes. He leans his head back against the pillows and his eyes close, and Jongin frowns at him, pushes another finger in, maybe a bit too soon as Chanyeol hisses, but just says, "Look at me."

Chanyeol does, he really does, eyes focusing with that same intense look Jongin saw on the runway, the one that makes his spine tremble. He holds his gaze as he crooks his fingers inside him, and he's got a third in there when Chanyeol breaks eye contact because the sensation is too great, his moan like the contented purr of a cat.

It makes Jongin grin, and press his fingers in deeper, hitting that spot again, and again, and Chanyeol writhes under him, all long helpless limbs, and peers up at Jongin.

"Don't look at me all smug like that," he says, and Jongin just laughs.

It dies in his throat in the next second as Chanyeol takes it upon himself to tug open Jongin's jeans. He has to move away to get his clothes off, and Chanyeol whines at the loss of his fingers inside him. His eagerness makes Jongin's whole body burn, and he doesn't hesitate as he pushes Chanyeol’s legal toward his chest and presses himself in.

The noise they make then together might be the greatest thing Jongin's ever heard, full and deep of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Chanyeol’s body clings tight and hot around him, and his fingers slip at his sweat-slicked skin as he tries to hold on to keep even slightly grounded, because it's too much, far too much and yet not enough at all and the urge to just let go and fuck him is pushing violently against Jongin's control.

Chanyeol’s fingers slide up Jongin’s arms, and Jongin’s skin burns wherever he touches, and it’s impossible really to stop from thrusting in a little deeper. Chanyeol mutters, “ _Fuck_ ,” under his breath but doesn't tell Jongin to stop, which is all Jongin needs. He pulls back and then pushes forward again, hips rocking into a quick, harsh rhythm because he couldn't take this slowly if he tried. From the moans Chanyeol’s making it doesn't seem like he cares in the least, and his fingernails dig deep into Jongin’s skin, and there will probably be bruises there later, that Yixing, who helps with makeup before shows, will probably bitch about having to cover up.

"Shit," Chanyeol hisses, as Jongin's thrusts hit him just right, his body curling tight around his dick and he can feel the unbridled pleasure all the way down to his toes. He tugs Chanyeol’s close with hands on his hops at each thrust and it makes Chanyeol cry out louder and louder every time and Jongin is positive he'll never get that sound out of his head.

"Touch yourself," he tells him and is amazed at how quickly he obeys, prying one hand off Jongin’s shoulder to push between their tummies and wrap around his cock. Jongin sucks in a shaky breath as it only makes everything tighter for him, pushing in harder, pressing Chanyeol’s legs apart a bit further to get in deeper. He can feel sweat dripping down his back, making his hair cling in clumps to his forehead, and he licks his lips before leaning in and kissing Chanyeol’s that are red and full and oh-so-perfect.

It's like that that Chanyeol comes, Jongin drinking up his moan as he goes rigid beneath him, thighs trembling and muscles clenching around Jongin who is on the brink of following right after. Chanyeol breaks their kiss to gasps for air, and his clear, clear eyes meet Jongin’s, full of wonder and satisfaction, and he trails the hand from Jongin’s shoulder gently up the back of his neck, fingers brushing delicately along the hairs there, and he breathes out, “Jongin,” and that's it - Jongin’s done for.

He looks away, pressing his forehead to Chanyeol’s collarbone as he comes with a grunt, feeling like the wind has been knocked straight out of him. Jongin lets out a sound like a deflating balloon, falling onto Chanyeol as his whole body seems to turn to jelly. Chanyeol grumbles slightly in discomfort under him but Jongin doesn’t care, too exhausted to move quite yet.

Chanyeol pokes him in the side after a few moments though, and says, “You’ve got to move.”

Jongin sighs, but does, rolling off onto the side of the bed and stretching his arms over his shoulders. He can see Chanyeol’s eyes trail down his body, and quickly turns away, jumping off the bed. He scratches the back of his neck and stares at the floor, says, “I’m going to shower.” He glances at Chanyeol and adds, “You’re free to stay, I guess, or leave, whatever,” and feeling ridiculous, a blush creeping up his cheeks as Chanyeol stares back in amusement, he escapes to the bathroom.

Not even five minutes later, Chanyeol follows him, slipping in after him and swallowing the protest on the tip of Jongin’s tongue with his mouth. And Jongin should kick him right out, he really should, but Chanyeol’s hands rest on his hips and his mouth is so perfectly warm against his under the cool water, and Jongin is relaxing and kissing back before he can think too much about it.

Chanyeol chuckles against his lips and says, “I kinda thought you’d make me leave.”

“Do you want me to?” Jongin retorts, slides a wet hand up Chanyeol’s chest, knuckles bumping against a nipple and Chanyeol gasps.

“No,” he says, quickly, and Jongin smirks.

“Then shut up,” he advises and Chanyeol does, lets Jongin curl a hand around his dick and kiss him instead.

 

“So, how was he?” Sehun greets Jongin the next morning, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and a half-eaten plate of toast and eggs.

Jongin rubs his eyes tiredly, fighting back a yawn as he pokes around in the fridge. “How was who?”

“Chanyeol,” Sehun says, and Jongin doesn’t even need to look to know he’s got that infuriatingly smug look on his face. “You two are really loud.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin says, whirling around to look at his roommate and Sehun’s big grin tells him he’s not lying. He groans, hides his face in his hands, and wants to die. “I didn’t even hear you come back.”

“You wouldn’t have heard a bulldozer if it’d demolished the whole apartment,” Sehun says, unhelpfully, and Jongin _really_ wants to die.

“Please stop,” Jongin says, and doesn’t even care that he sounds like a whining three-year-old. “Just because we fucked once--”

“Twice, you mean,” Sehun interjects around a mouthful of toast. “The showers echo.”

Jongin’s going to dig himself a grave and bury himself, he decides. He grips the edge of the counter and sinks to the floor, hanging his head. “You are the worst roommate. You couldn’t have pretended like you didn’t know anything?”

“I did, for all of last night.”

“So you just waited until this morning to ruin my life?”

“Yes.”

“Worst roommate,” Jongin repeats, and Sehun just laughs.

“Really, though,” he says, “how was it?”

Jongin groans loudly, pulls himself up quickly and rushes out of the kitchen. “I’m leaving,” he calls back unnecessarily, and he grabs his keys off the coffee table by the couch before heading out, ignoring Sehun’s high-pitched giggles as he yells for him to come back, because Sehun doesn’t need to know just how much Jongin’s thought of almost nothing else but Chanyeol ever since he left, and how much he’d like to have him back.

 

Chanyeol is a lot of things Jongin doesn't like. He's loud, he's invasive, and he's everywhere. Jongin likes not being disturbed and likes not being questioned about his favorite foods or things he likes to do when he's not working on a show and he likes being left alone. It isn't that he doesn't like people, but he'd just rather they leave him be until he's interested enough to get to know them.

Chanyeol doesn't seem to pick up on any of this though and the week leading up to the next show is filled with him always being around. He doesn't really bother Jongin that much, but just the fact that he's there at all rubs Jongin the wrong way.

He doesn't get what it is about Chanyeol that gets under his skin. How he can go from wanting to fuck him over the makeup counter and hear him beg for more to wanting to punch him in his stupid face.

"Are you still angry because I gave him the open for the show?" Baekhyun asks two nights before the run. He sits beside Jongin on a plastic fold up chair along the wall and turns his gaze to where Chanyeol is chattering away with Sehun and yelping every few seconds when Kyungsoo accidentally stabs him with a pin as he tries to fix a hem.

"No," Jongin says and it’s true now, he doesn't care. He has other things on his mind.

"Then why do you look like you want to maul him?"

Jongin squawks. "I-I do not!" he exclaims and he can tell with one look that Baekhyun doesn't believe him.

"Well, you should try to get along with him at any rate. He's going to be working with me - _us_ \- for awhile longer. And that shoot I told you about that we have for Vogue next week, I want you and Chanyeol to do it."

"That was supposed to be Yifan and Sehun though, wasn't it?"

Baekhyun shrugs. "I changed my mind. I think the two of you are more suited."

Jongin narrows his eyes. "You’re lying. You know that I don't like him so you're making me work with him on purpose.”

Baekhyun mock-gasps like he can’t believe Jongin would suggest he do such a thing, but then he laughs and shrugs again. “I don't care if you like him or not as long as you don't make me look bad because of it.”

“Yes, sir,” Jongin says, and salutes at him, laughing when Baekhyun rolls his eyes and shoves at him.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, showing up suddenly with a bright grin on his face. His hair flops into his face and he shakes it out from his eyes, and looks at Jongin happily. “Kyungsoo says it’s your turn. He has a jacket he wants to fix for you.”

Jongin nods because his mouth feels suddenly dry, eyes traveling down Chanyeol’s long frame, and he’s dressed in deliciously tight pants, a deep red trench coat, and a black shirt that is practically see-through. He looks fucking good, and Jongin has to drag his gaze back up to his face. Chanyeol’s fiddling with the collar of the jacket, trying to get it to lay down properly and his face is scrunched up in confusion, and Jongin doesn’t know what makes him do it, but he reaches out and nudges Chanyeol’s hands away, mutters, “Here, let me.” He slides his hands up around the collar, and his thumbs brush against the back of his neck, and he hears Chanyeol’s breath catch as he folds the collar down correctly and pulls it down against his chest.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says and his voice is the softest Jongin’s ever heard it, and he looks up at him quickly, at eyes that look both surprised and amused, and Jongin drops his hands like he’s just been caught on fire. “Hey, are you okay?” Chanyeol asks, and he sounds worried, pitching forward to peer at Jongin, who instinctively steps back.

He nods and grumbles, “Just fine,” and he’s pretty sure he hears Baekhyun snickering beside him, and he shuffles past the both of them before he can do anything else completely stupid.

“You two looked cozy over there,” Sehun says gleefully as Kyungsoo slides a leather jacket up Jongin’s arms.

“Shut up,” he snaps, making Kyungsoo look at him with big concerned eyes while Sehun hides his laughter behind a hand.

He sneaks a glance over at Chanyeol out of the corner of his eye, catches him looking straight back, and hates the way his stomach twists into knots that he can’t unravel for hours to come.

 

Jongin sinks his hands into Chanyeol’s hair, slightly sticky with hairspray from the show that they’d use to style it up and out of his face for once, but Jongin pulls it apart as a groan escapes his throat, hips rocking up into the hot, hot heat of Chanyeol’s mouth.

Big hands grip his waist and hold him steady and Jongin glares down from under his bangs because he’d like nothing more than to thrust up into that perfect mouth, and he can’t like this. Chanyeol just hums around him instead, like he knows exactly what Jongin is thinking. He tries to fight back a sound of pleasure as Chanyeol swirls his tongue sinfully around the crown of his cock and swallows him down, taking in a little more. And Jongin’s head slams back into the wall of the bathroom stall, his fingers tighten his grip in Chanyeol’s hair instinctively as he catches Chanyeol shoving a hand down the unfastened front of his jeans, stroking his own erection in swift movements.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongin gasps, and he’s almost there, so close he can feel it in his toes, and Chanyeol casts large eyes up at him, watching as Jongin comes completely undone.

Chanyeol is up on his feet in seconds, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and then stealing Jongin’s staggered breaths, and he can taste himself on Chanyeol’s tongue, and he wishes they weren’t hiding in the bathroom during the after-show party, and that they didn’t have to return and socialize for another hour or two because Jongin would much rather just turn Chanyeol around up against the stall door and fuck him hard until he saw stars.

Instead he just mumbles, “We should probably go back.”

Chanyeol laughs, breath hot on Jongin’s skin. “Probably,” he says, and licks at Jongin’s lips once more before pulling back.

Jongin swallows thickly and looks down at his shoes instead of Chanyeol’s grinning face as he fastens up his pants, and fumbles with the lock on the stall before stumbling out. Chanyeol follows and Jongin just barely watches him make a face at the tangled mess of hair on his head. “How am I supposed to go back out like this?” he grumbles and Jongin hides an amused snort, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes in the mirrors before quickly looking away.

He washes his hands and steps around Chanyeol to grab some paper towels to dry off, and the deep rumble of Chanyeol’s laugh is far too close, causing Jongin to jump a bit as he turns. Chanyeol grins at him and it’s almost alarming, the silly look on his face, and he pecks Jongin’s lips in a fleeting kiss and says, “You’re really cute.”

Not expecting that at all, Jongin makes a surprised noise and flushes deeply. He shoves past Chanyeol and grumbles, “I am not cute.”

“I just sucked you off and you get all embarrassed afterward,” Chanyeol says, drying off his hands and tossing crumpled paper towels into the waste bin. “Yes, that’s kinda cute.”

“Well, you’re kinda stupid,” Jongin snaps back without thinking, and Chanyeol’s eyes go wide for a second before he bursts into laughter, and Jongin’s face heats him even more. He needs to get out of here. He heads for the door and tosses back, “Fix your hair before you come out here,” at a still laughing Chanyeol, and returns to the rest of the group in the private room they’d booked for the evening.

He grabs a thin flute of wine and flops down in an empty seat, downs the drink in one go and sets it on the table before him. He watches as Chanyeol comes in a few minutes later, and he actually listened to Jongin because his hair no longer resembles a bird’s nest, but is parted at the side and tucked back behind his ears. He waves at Jongin as he walks in, and almost trips over a chair as he joins Baekhyun and Sehun, and he really _is_ stupid Jongin thinks, sighing as he looks dejectedly around the room and contemplates getting another drink or more.

“Here,” says Yifan, holding out another glass before Jongin’s face, and Jongin takes it with a nod of his head.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, and takes a sip. Yifan sits down beside him, looking impeccable as usual in a sleek black suit and tie.

“He seems to like you,” Yifan says after a stretch of silence and it takes Jongin a moment to realize what he’s even talking about. He follows Yifan’ line of vision to where Chanyeol is listening intently to something Baekhyun is saying, eyes round in attentiveness, and Jongin takes another sip of his drink.

“He seems to like everyone,” he replies, looking away. He doesn’t particularly want to talk about Chanyeol, and he thinks about just leaving Yifan and joining Kyungsoo and Luhan, both of whom seem pretty tipsy already, laughing over something together.

"Exactly, which is why it's strange that he likes you because you don't seem to like him back."

"What's there to like? He's just some other model that I happen to work with."

Yifan makes a highly skeptical noise around the rim of his glass, and takes a sip before he says, "Right, that's why you snuck off to the bathroom together at the first chance after the runway show,” and Jongin chokes on his drink. Yifan smirks. “You’re gonna have to be more careful about that if you don’t want anyone to know.”

“Go away,” Jongin mutters and downs the rest of his drink. Yifan laughs but pats his shoulder and actually does, leaving Jongin with an empty glass and a mess of thoughts.

He glances at Chanyeol from across the room, and looks quickly away when Chanyeol catches his eye. He drops his gaze to his empty glass and stands. He’s going to need much more of this.

 

Jongin wakes with a terrible pounding in his head, like someone's taken a hammer to his skull repeatedly. He groans, rolling over in bed to avoid the sunlight on his face, but ye doesn't get far before colliding with something. Or _someone_ he realizes when the warm mass makes a soft sound of irritation that sounds all too familiar.

Jongin opens his eyes quickly and meets a mess of curly orange hair that has no right to be in bed with him. He and Chanyeol may have fucked a few times but he's never stayed the night and Jongin doesn't remember ever bringing him back the night before.

He rubs his eyes and looks around the room, and realizes slowly that this isn't his room at all. There’s no bookcase by the window, and the desk in the corner is missing his MacBook, and the walls are a pale yellow instead of Jongin's boring white, and he has no idea where he is or how he got here.

He turns back to Chanyeol's sleeping form and does the only thing that seems reasonable. He kicks him off the bed.

Chanyeol yelps loudly as he hits the floor, and he ends up tangled in the bedsheets for a few minutes before Jongin grows impatient and yanks them off.

"What am I doing here?" he demands when Chanyeol looks up at him with round eyes.

"Did you just kick me out of my own bed?"

"No, you fell," Jongin replies easily and ignores Chanyeol narrowing his eyes at him. "And that doesn't answer my question. What am I doing here?"

Chanyeol pulls himself free of the blankets and stands, stretching his arms over his head, and Jongin tries not to stare at his long limbs and expanse of beautiful skin since he’s only dressed in a pair of ugly plaid boxers, even though it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He sighs loudly as he drops his arms and grins at Jongin as he gathers up the sheets from the floor. “Well, Yifan asked me to take you home last night, but I didn’t remember where exactly you lived so I brought you back home with me?”

Jongin blinks. “Why would Yifan--” he says, but stops halfway because he knows _exactly_ why Yifan would ask Chanyeol to take him home instead of Sehun, when Yifan fully knows that they’re roommates.

“You were really drunk last night,” Chanyeol explains, misunderstanding. He drops the sheets in an unkempt pile on the bed and then heads to his closet.

Jongin stares at the sheets, then at the smooth slope of Chanyeol’s back. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Did we--”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time if we did,” Chanyeol cuts in, smirking over his shoulder at Jongin who scowls. He watches as Chanyeol picks around his closet for a clean clothes. “But we didn’t,” he continues after he tugs on a pair of jeans. “You passed out the second I got you in bed.”

“Oh,” Jongin says, because he’s not sure what else to say, and he scratches the back of his neck. “Thanks, then, I guess.”

Chanyeol laughs. “It’s not like we were gonna leave you at the restaurant,” he says, and then tosses Jongin a white t-shirt and some jeans. “You can wear those, if you want. I can’t imagine sleeping in a suit was all that comfortable.”

Jongin nods, and climbs out of bed, grabs the clothes up in his arms. “I’m borrowing your shower,” he says, shuffling past Chanyeol into the bathroom.

“Sure!” Chanyeol says, and then pokes his head through the door before Jongin can close it and adds, “We should get breakfast after you’re done.”

Jongin should really just shower and go home. He has the worst hangover and god know Chanyeol is not going to make it any fucking better, but he looks at him, at over-eager eyes and bright smile and he finds himself saying, “Yeah, okay, sure.” He reaches for the doorknob. “Now get out.”

“You don’t want me to join you?” Chanyeol asks, smirking. “Remember last time.”

Jongin _does_ remember the last time, of slick, wet skin and hot breath against the cool water, but he retorts instead, “You mean how you almost slipped and cracked your head on the tile floor? No, thanks,” and he slams the door in Chanyeol’s gaping face.

 

“So are you guys, like, dating, or what?” Sehun questions, climbing up onto the couch four days later, and flopping himself across Jongin like a big, slightly bony dog. Jongin grumbles at him, but he has a giant bowl of popcorn so he lets him stay, and helps himself to a handful of buttery goodness.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Jongin answers around a mouthful, looking at Sehun like he’s crazy. “What’re you talking about?”

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” Sehun says, exasperated like Jongin should know these things, and Jongin chokes on the popcorn. Sehun unhelpfully pats his shoulder as Jongin coughs, and Jongin swats his hand away irritably.

“Fucking is not dating, okay,” Jongin says, and Sehun looks at him like he doesn’t believe a word he says. “I don’t even like him.”

“Why not? He seems nice,” Sehun says, tilting his head to the side and scrunching his face in confusion.

Jongin shrugs, because he can’t really explain, and steals another hand of popcorn. Sehun smacks at him this time, and Jongin throws the popcorn at his face.

“You’ve gone out with him like everyday this week, though,” Sehun presses, and Jongin thinks Sehun needs a better hobby than making his life miserable.

“Don’t you have like, homework to do or something?” Jongin says, because unlike Jongin who gave up on school a long time ago, Sehun was heading into his third year of college. “A photo shoot to go to? A runway show? Something?”

“Nah,” Sehun says, grinning, his cheeks puffed up from a mouthful of popcorn. “This is a better use of my time.”

Jongin scowls, throws more popcorn at Sehun’s head, and laughs when Sehun retaliates. He squirms away, kicking at him, and reaches out to get more popcorn ammunition, only to end up falling straight off the couch when the doorbell rings and startles them both.

“Go answer it,” they both say at once, and Sehun throws popcorn at Jongin again as Jongin sighs and gets to his feet, wonders aloud, “I wasn’t expecting anyone, were you?”

Sehun shakes his head and then a gleeful smile crawls across his face. “Maybe it’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jongin hisses, glaring at Sehun who chomps loudly on popcorn and grins, cheeks puffed up. He sighs again and heads to the door, brushing off stray popcorn off his shoulders, and pulls the door open wide.

Chanyeol stands in the hall dressed in a bright yellow shirt and an even brighter grin, and if Jongin didn’t already know him, he’d think he was an escaped crazy person. “Hi!” he says excitedly. “Are you ready to go?”

Jongin blinks slowly. “Go where?” he questions.

“We were going to get a quick meal before heading to the studio for the new photo shoot,” Chanyeol explains and his expression melts into something Jongin can only guess is disappointment, like he’s upset that Jongin didn’t remember. “Did you forget?”

Jongin rubs the back of his neck and nods. “Sorry,” he says, starting to vaguely recall making some kind of plan like this with Chanyeol the other day. “Um, give me a sec and I’ll get ready. Come in.”

He steps back and lets Chanyeol into the apartment, and Chanyeol follows him inside, looking around a little curiously. Even though he’d been there before it hadn't been long enough to really explore.

"Hey Chanyeol," Sehun says, and he's grinning the same way he gets when he discovers a big secret and is minutes from telling everyone he knows.

Jongin glares at him, but years of being friends has clearly made him resilient, and he sighs, runs a hand through his hair and says, "I'm gonna go get ready."

"Jongin," Chanyeol says before he can leave, and Jongin turns back expectantly. Chanyeol just reaches a hand out toward him and Jongin’s eyes widen as he brushes something out of his hair. He grins, pulling his hand back, and says, with an amused laugh, "You had popcorn in your hair."

Heat blooms in Jongin’s face and he hears Sehun snickering behind him but quickly looks away, tousling his hair where Chanyeol touched him. "Thanks," he mutters, feeling strange and pathetic, and he escapes to his room before Chanyeol does anything else to make him feel even more flustered.

When he returns, freshly dressed in clean jeans and a white t-shirt instead of the sweats and the stained tank top he’d been lounging around in before, he finds Chanyeol laughing with Sehun in a way that makes unease slink down his spine.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asks suspiciously, looking from one to the other.

“Nothing,” Sehun says a bit too quickly for Jongin to know they were definitely talking about him. “You guys should go or you’ll be late.”

Chanyeol nods, jumping up to his feet, and looks over at Jongin expectantly. Jongin sighs, and leads the way out of the apartment, pausing in the doorway as Chanyeol almost trips tugging his shoes back onto his feet.

“Your roommate is nice,” Chanyeol says amiably as they take the two flights of stairs back down instead of waiting for the elevator.

“What did he say about me?” Jongin questions, and Chanyeol laughs.

“Oh, nothing much,” he says, and Jongin’s a little surprised he didn’t immediately act as though they hadn’t talked about him at all. “Nothing I didn’t already know, anyway.”

Now Jongin is curious instead of suspicious, and he looks at Chanyeol with raised brows. When Chanyeol just smiles as he pushes open the front door and heads out into the sticky outdoor heat, Jongin follows and adds, realizing Chanyeol doesn’t plan to make this easy, “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Chanyeol replies and Jongin kicks at his feet, making Chanyeol laugh loudly, the deep sound rumbling down Jongin’s spine pleasantly. “Come on,” he says, grabbing Jongin’s elbow and steering him down the sidewalk. “I know a nice place, if you’re cool with ramyeon?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” Jongin says, distracted by the firm grip of Chanyeol’s fingers, oh so warm against his bare skin.

Chanyeol’s responding smile leaves Jongin a little dizzy, and he quickly stares down at his feet as they walk off, and Jongin tries not to focus on the fact that Chanyeol holds onto his arm the entire way there.

It’s a small, off-the-chain place that Jongin’s never been to or even heard of, but Chanyeol seems comfortable, greeting the young hostess at the door with a bright smile. She calls him by his name, welcoming him back, and leads them both to a table on the side of the bar. Jongin nods as she hands him a menu, and then leaves, and he looks down at the options with brows furrowed. Chanyeol reaches over and points out the best sets, rambling on about how he’s been here so many times he’s practically had everything the place has to offer, so Jongin can count on his taste.

“I don’t know, you snack on those disgusting things in between shoots, so how can I believe what you suggest won’t make me gag?” Jongin asks, smirking when Chanyeol looks at him aghast.

“Those snacks are delicious!” Chanyeol insists. “Maybe _you’re_ the one with weird taste.”

Jongin just hums disbelievingly, and looks back down at the menu, deciding what he wants. They order when a waiter stops by, greeting Chanyeol like an old friend, and Jongin smiles when Chanyeol unnecessarily introduces him. Jongin sighs, sinking back into his seat and pulls out his phone to give him something to do with his hands now that he can’t hide behind a menu anymore. It isn’t the first time he and Chanyeol have been out like this, but Jongin isn’t really used to it yet. He has been out with him nearly everyday this week, ever since that morning after the runway show when they’d gone out for breakfast and it hadn’t been all that terrible. Chanyeol may have almost spilled coffee all over the jeans he’d let Jongin borrow, but it wasn’t really a big deal since they’d come off the second they’d gotten to Jongin’s apartment and Chanyeol had fucked him slow against the front door.

Jongin flushes thinking about it, and tries not to, because it isn’t supposed to mean anything. It _doesn’t_ mean anything, none of it does. And definitely not the going out to eat almost everyday this week; it’s just that Chanyeol will invite him and Jongin infuriatingly finds that he can’t say no even though he wants to. He totally does.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asks, and he leans across the table to peer at Jongin, who instinctively draws as far back as he can without tipping over in his chair.

“Yeah,” he lies, and hopes it sounds convincing; Chanyeol doesn’t know him that well enough yet to figure out when he’s lying like the rest of his friends. “Just hungry, I guess.”

Chanyeol makes a soft noise as he assesses him, like he actually can tell that Jongin’s lying, and maybe Sehun’s right about how his emotions always show on his face. Thankfully, their food arrives at that moment, and they’re both distracted by growling stomachs to let the conversation drop. Chanyeol watches with overeager eyes as Jongin takes a few bites, and Jongin thinks he looks kind of like a puppy waiting for approval.

It’s good, though, really good, and he licks his lips and says, “Okay, so your taste may not be that bad.”

Chanyeol grins widely, his face contorting into what Jongin assumes is a pleased expression. “Good,” he says, happily, and only then does he turn to his own meal, leaving Jongin wondering why Chanyeol seems to care so much about what Jongin thinks.

 

Jongin forgot that Chanyeol was apparently a pretty popular model before Jongin ever met him. When they get to their photo shoot that day, he’s reminded though, because Minseok, the photographer for the day whom Jongin has worked with a few times, and Junmyeon, his assistant, both greet Chanyeol like they’re seeing an old friend for the first time in ages.

“It’s good to see you back,” Minseok says, smiling and patting Chanyeol’s back.

“It’s good to be back,” Chanyeol replies sincerely, and Jongin wonders again what it is that made him ever stop in the first place.

He wants to ask, but Jongdae’s rushing in to get them dressed and to make-up, complaining about them being late.

“By only five minutes!” Chanyeol exclaims, as Jongdae thrusts a deep red trench coat into his hands. “Chill out, Jongdae. At least Minseok was nice enough to welcome me back.”

“Minseok’s nice to everyone,” Jongdae says. “I, for one, definitely didn’t miss your obnoxiously loud voice and tendency to pull pranks when bored. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that time you switched up the order for that runway show we did for Baekhyun, and we almost had a fucking heart attack.”

Chanyeol laughs. “I forgot about that,” he says, and looks delighted as he undoubtedly remembers. “That was a good time.”

“I’m sorry you have to work with him,” Jongdae says, turning to Jongin and handing him a navy blazer. “He hasn’t done anything like that to you, yet, has he?”

Jongin looks at Chanyeol, who smiles back at him kindly, and no, he definitely hasn’t done anything like _that_ , but Jongin’s not sure if what they have done is any better. “No,” he says, “but I’m sure he’s just biding his time.”

Chanyeol smirks at him, and Jongin wonders if he just unnecessarily set himself up for something terrible.

"Don't worry," Chanyeol says, like he can read Jongin's mind. "I only pull tricks on people I don't like." He slides his gaze from Jongin to stare pointedly at Jongdae.

"Very funny," Jongdae says, rolling his eyes. "Now shut up and get dressed. We've got work to do, deadlines to meet."

Chanyeol salutes him mockingly, earning him a halfhearted punch in the arm as Jongdae rushes about and hands them each pairs of designer jeans and finely pressed shirts. Jongin is used to all of this, easily stripping and redressing, but his mind reels a bit from Chanyeol’s earlier words.

He tries not to dwell on it though, because he's here to work, and once dressed he heads over to where Zitao is waiting to do his hair, squeezing out gel into his hands and smiling at Jongin through the mirror. "I think it'll look good up, today."

Jongin smiles back. "Whatever you say," he replies and shudders a bit when Zitao presses cool, gel-slicked fingers through his hair. 

Minseok calls them up onto the set after they're ready, glances through the viewfinder before checking the computers. "Stand a little closer,” he says, and Jongin steps to his right, shoulder brushing against Chanyeol’s arm. “Relax, we want a calm shoot. Talk a bit or something, don’t be so stiff.”

Chanyeol laughs, looks down at Jongin with a small smile, and Minseok says, “Jongin, put your arm up on his shoulder,” and Jongin does, slowly, resting his elbow against Chanyeol and glancing back at him. He can hear the whirl and clicks of the camera shutter as Chanyeol starts talking about something like Minseok requested. Jongin lets himself zone out because Chanyeol talks too much and Jongin isn’t really the type of person to listen that intently. He stares at Chanyeol though, nodding occasionally to make it seem like he’s listening, and instead takes in the lines of Chanyeol’s face as he speaks. His expressions are hilarious, eyes going wide and squinty within seconds, and his laugh is so loud and so big. He’ll look at Jongin though every once in awhile, really look at him, and it’s the same kind of intensity in his eyes that Jongin saw that very first night they met, which almost feels like years ago, in this moment. And Jongin can see a bit what everyone raves about. He really is good looking. Tall and lean and with a face that this industry just loves. Pretty eyes and a nice mouth, and Jongin always appreciated his mouth, especially when it’s wrapped tight around his dick, but even now, he can see the appeal.

“Why’re you staring at me?” Chanyeol asks, suddenly, looking at Jongin curiously, and Jongin blinks, quickly pulling himself back to reality, back to the fact that they’re in the middle of a shoot and he’s getting lost in stupid thoughts about stupid Chanyeol.

He laughs, playing it off, and says, “Nothing,” and the whirl and clicks of the cameras snapping pictures fills his ears.

“That was great,” Minseok calls, peering at them from behind his camera. “Jongin just keep looking at him like that.”

Jongin swallows thickly and says, “Like _what_?” and he starts to wonder whether he’ll have to sabotage the pictures Minseok’s been taking, not sure if he wants to see or know what kind of expression was on his face when he was looking at Chanyeol, and thinking about him. Not sure if he wants _anyone_ to see that.

“Like you want to fuck him,” Jongdae shouts unhelpfully from where he’s watching in the corner with Zitao, who snickers behind his hand, and Jongin suddenly feels like someone’s turned up the heat in the studio, sweat clinging to the back of his neck.

Chanyeol just laughs loudly, like he’s heard the funniest joke, and Jongin wants to punch him, but settles for just hiding his face in his hands, and hating his life.

Minseok smirks bemusedly, lowering the camera to look at Jongin and Chanyeol, and says, “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was gonna say but it works, so go with it.”

Jongin groans, opening his mouth to retort, but he feels Chanyeol’s hand rest warm against the small of his back and his words die on the tip of his tongue. “Calm down, Jongin,” he whispers into his ear, and flashes a bright smile when Jongin looks at him, and Jongin, despite himself, despite everything, actually does, relaxing against Chanyeol and grinning toward the camera.

 

Chanyeol’s gasp is loud in the quiet changing room as Jongin pushes his up against the closest wall and peels his already open shirt down his shoulders. “I guess Jongdae was right,” he laughs into Jongin’s lips, and Jongin scowls, making quick work of Chanyeol’s belt.

“Do you have to bring that up?” Jongin questions, and he gasps, too, when Chanyeol presses his palm hard against the growing bulge in Jongin’s jeans.

Jongin can feel Chanyeol’s smirk against his mouth, his breath hot as he replies, “So, what were you thinking about?”

“What?” Jongin says, confused and distracted as Chanyeol pops the buttons on his pants, drags the zipper down slowly.

“You had to be thinking about something, when you were looking at me like that. Jongdae really wasn’t far off, you know.” He meets Jongin’s eyes, and his are dark and intense and Jongin feels hot all over, but that’s probably from Chanyeol’s hand sliding down his jeans to stroke his dick softly. “Tell me,” Chanyeol says, licks his lips, and it’s like he knows, Jongin thinks as he watches the slow movement of his tongue against red, red lips.

“Fuck,” Jongin growls, annoyed and horribly turned on, and presses his hands flat against Chanyeol’s stomach, skin burning hot against his palm, and Chanyeol stares at him expectantly, as Jongin tries to think of a way to escape this. He can’t though, and gives in, hating the way Chanyeol looks at him, grumbles, “Fine, okay, I was thinking about how fucking good your mouth looks when you're sucking me off," and he flushes deeper when Chanyeol lets out soft chuckle in response.

"Do you want that, now?" he asks then, and Jongin groans, thinking about it, and because Chanyeol chooses that moment to brush the pad of his thumb against the tip of his cock smoothly, and yes, fuck yes, Jongin would love to push his dick into Chanyeol's mouth again, but--

"No," he says, and he tugs down Chanyeol's dark slacks and underwear, "no. Right now I want to fuck you."

Chanyeol grins widely, that stupid grin of his that makes his face all weird, and Jongin thinks something must be wrong because he finds that kind of endearing, now. But he pushes that thought away quickly, pulls Chanyeol close with fingers clenched in his hair and kisses him roughly. Chanyeol reciprocates enthusiastically, tugs Jongin close with the open front of his jeans, slipping his hand out so their bodies press up together like connecting puzzle pieces. Jongin groans as Chanyeol grinds against him, and it’s good, really good, and Jongin wants much, much more.

Thankfully Chanyeol seems to be thinking the same, muttering, “If you’re gonna do this, you’re gonna have to be quick about it.” He gasps when Jongin presses a thigh between his legs and rubs against him just right, fingers gripping tight into his hipbone. “We still have another set to do.”

“Shut up, I know,” Jongin says, “just give me a sec--”

“Lotion,” Chanyeol says quickly, low voice coming out in a rush, and he nods toward the small make-up dresser along the adjacent wall. Jongin glances at him for a second, sees the heat and want and eagerness in his eyes, and he backs away long enough to fiddle around with the small tubes and containers on the counter before finding a tiny tube of lotion.

When he turns back, Chanyeol has a hand in his own pants, eyes closed as his head rests back against the wall and his mouth is open, lips quivering in soft shudders of breath and Jongin’s own feels like it’s stuck in his throat. He walks over in two quick strides, and turns Chanyeol around roughly, Chanyeol gasps in surprise, catching himself against the wall with his hands. Jongin pulls his pants and underwear down his hips, and he’s rushing to coat his fingers with lotion before pressing two between Chanyeol’s legs.

Chanyeol’s low groan feels like the walls shake around them and Jongin slides a hand up Chanyeol’s chest, pushes two fingers into his open mouth to stifle the noise. “Shhh,” he whispers into his ear, and he feels Chanyeol’s whole body tremble, and his muscles clench tight around the fingers Jongin’s pushing harder and deeper inside of him. 

Chanyeol's tongue slides hot and wet around his fingers and it's highly erotic, making Jongin even more aware of his own arousal. He slips his fingers out from his mouth, gripping onto Chanyeol’s waist instead, and Chanyeol’s tiny moans fill the room again.

"Fuck me already," Chanyeol says, and his voice is laced with desperation, and Jongin might normally tease him a bit longer, except he's hard, too, straining against his jeans, and they only have so much time.

He pulls his fingers out and replaces them quickly with his cock, pushing his jeans down his legs enough to suffice, and he stifles his groan into the back of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol gasps, fingernails dragging for purchase against the wall as Jongin starts to move, and it’s quick and fast and fucking perfect, Chanyeol’s body clenching delightfully tight around him.

"Touch me," Chanyeol begs, almost a sob, and Jongin does, sliding saliva-wet fingers to stroke his cock, and then he's coming in thick streaks over Jongin’s fingers.

Jongin doesn't last long after that, and he pulls back quick enough to push Chanyeol’s shirt up his chest and come onto his lower back. Chanyeol shudders with his whole body, leaning against the wall in an attempt to not fall to his knees, and Jongin quickly fastens his jeans up with one hand, and grabs a small hand-towel from the counter to clean Chanyeol and himself off. Chanyeol grabs him before he turns away, and kisses him hard on the mouth, and Jongin is surprised enough that Chanyeol pushes him into the wall like he’d done before.

Before Jongin can relax into it, Chanyeol is retreating, and his lips are shiny with spit as he grins, wide, and says, “Come on, Jongin,” and Jongin really hates how much he’s started to like how his name sounds in Chanyeol’s deep, deep voice, “let’s wrap this shoot up.”

And Jongin wonders, as he watches Chanyeol stretch arms over his head and head to the rack of clothes in the middle of the room and feels the pit of his stomach bubbling strangely, if something is going horribly wrong.

 

The back seat is far too cramped and Jongin's already smacked his head against the window three times just trying to get comfortable - or as comfortable as one can be in the back of a car - but then there's Chanyeol sliding warm, wet lips against his own and fitting above him just enough and they shouldn’t, really, because it’s still too small and Chanyeol’s so long and they are most definitely going to be late to Baekhyun’s party and--

"Will you stop thinking?" Chanyeol murmurs against Jongin’s lips. "I can almost hear it. We won't be late."

Jongin really hates how he does that, how he seems to know exactly what he's thinking at any moment. They haven’t known each other that long for him to be able to do that yet. He scowls and replies, "You were the one who pushed me back here."

"Hmm, yes, because it's been a week and you look really nice in that jacket," Chanyeol says, smiling, and Jongin also hates how he can't ever tell if Chanyeol’s being truthful or just teasing.

Either way he flushes, and Chanyeol grins before kissing him again and Jongin pushes away all irrelevant thoughts because who cares if they are late, this, this is definitely a much better use of his time than attending Baekhyun's silly get-together.

So he kisses back, lets Chanyeol work open the buttons on the deep blue shirt he's wearing, and his fingers graze along skin like velvet. Chanyeol sucks a point into Jongin’s clavicle once he's pulled open the collar, pushing aside his sleeveless leather jacket to get access, and Jongin is starting to feel far too warm.

He slips his hands under Chanyeol’s shirt, up the slope of his back and Chanyeol sighs into his skin, tongue sliding over his sternum, and then down across a nipple. Jongin gasps, tightens his fingers into Chanyeol’s shirt and twists tight, and he's already hard beneath Chanyeol because, yes it _has_ been awhile, and maybe Jongin had found the way Chanyeol looked in deliciously tight black jeans and casual white shirt to be just a bit too attractive.

It probably didn't help that Chanyeol had chosen to rest his hand on Jongin’s knee from the moment he picked him up and drove all the way to Baekhyun’s apartment complex, rubbing tiny circles with his thumb into the side.

Yeah, that hadn’t helped at all.

And now, Chanyeol is doing the same, pushing aside Jongin’s legs to fit between him, one hand on his knee and brushing up along the inseam of his jeans, and Jongin can’t stop his full-body shiver. It makes Chanyeol chuckle, and Jongin contemplates kneeing him in the head, but then Chanyeol’s got his hands on the fastens of his jeans, tugging them down his hips so he can get a firm hand around Jongin’s cock.

“Shit,” Jongin mutters, his head tilting back and colliding once again with the window. It hurts but not enough to make Chanyeol stop, not when Chanyeol is leaning down far enough to swipe his tongue straight across the head. His hips jerk up for more instantaneously, and Chanyeol’s small smirk makes Jongin even hotter. He reaches out to swipe Chanyeol’s bangs from his face, they’re getting kind of long and he should probably cut it, but Jongin also likes being able to grip onto it when he fucks him from behind. Or, like this, when Chanyeol sucks him down to the base and all Jongin can do to keep himself grounded is to pull on the soft strands.

He groans loudly when Chanyeol retreats, gasping and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and Jongin just glares because stopping is the last thing Jongin wants Chanyeol to do right now. Chanyeol leans back and his head bumps against the light in the middle of the ceiling, and Jongin snickers at the surprised look that fills his face. He watches with amusement as Chanyeol sort of pouts at him, then stretches over the console to pop open the front compartment. He pulls back with a small tube and unmistakable foil packet and Jongin's amusement dies as he he stares curiously.

"Why do you have that in your _car_?"

"Do you really want to know?" Chanyeol replies, dropping the items onto Jongin’s tummy and popping open the button on his own jeans, and Jongin stares up at him, taking in his mused up hair and slick red lips and the long limbs that make him look even taller than usual in the tiny backseat and he hates how the thought of chanyeol doing this with someone else creeps into his mind and latches itself there like that's something he wants to think about.

He definitely doesn't, because it doesn't matter, and not because it makes him scowl and clench his hands into fists in inexplicable anger. He shakes his head and yanks Chanyeol down by the collar of his v-neck and their teeth clash together in their kiss, making Jongin's head spin.

Jongin kisses him roughly, and it's all tongue and teeth and harsh, hot breaths against lips, and Jongin likes it most like this, when he doesn't have to think and just _does_. Chanyeol gives back twice as much, eagerly swiping his tongue along Jongin's, nipping at his lower lip and groaning that rumbling deep groan of his that makes Jongin's skin burn. And he's so caught up in this that it isn't until cool, slick fingers push between his legs that he realizes what's happening, panting as he pushes Chanyeol back with a hand on his shoulder to stare up at him.

"What're you doing," he asks flatly and Chanyeol grins alarmingly wide, crooking two fingers into Jongin at once and Jongin's thighs tremble from the intrusion, sucks his lower lip into his mouth.

"You like it," Chanyeol says, which isn't an answer at all, and Jongin opens his mouth to snap back but Chanyeol's fingers press in deeper and his other hand palms his dick and all that comes out is an embarrassingly appreciative moan. Chanyeol's laughter rings throughout the car and Jongin's face burns with heat, and he would fucking love to kick Chanyeol in the head but he doesn't think that would get him off, and right now he wants that more.

And it must show on his face because Chanyeol smiles, eyes soft as he fingers Jongin harder, deeper, until Jongin is pushing back as much as he can in the small backseat to get more. They don't do it like this very often, and Jongin hates how much he likes it.

"You look really hot right now," Chanyeol breathes, voice full of wonder, and he's staring down at Jongin like he's never seen him before, and that only makes Jongin harder, his heart beat faster, and he feels the flush in his cheeks spread down his neck.

"Just shut up," Jongin bites back, and Chanyeol presses his lips together, and pulls his fingers out. Jongin fights down a whine, watches with narrowed eyes as Chanyeol fumbles with the condom and then he's got slick fingers on Jongin's hip as he guides himself in.

Jongin's not sure which one of them groans at that point, or if it was the two of them together, all he can focus on is the fullness inside him and the pressure of Chanyeol's fingernails digging into his skin, hard enough to leave marks. He grips onto the back pocket of the passenger's side seat as Chanyeol starts to move, slow at first and quickly building up a rhythm as Jongin grows to accept him.

"Faster," Jongin hisses, rocking into Chanyeol’s thrusts, and he tries to rock back into the pressure but the cramped space makes it uncomfortable, the door handle pressing into his back, so he stops and lets Chanyeol work, instead pushing a hand between them to stroke himself.

" _Jongin_ ," Chanyeol rasps, Jongin tightening around him, and Jongin is definitely going to have bruises on his hips, later, from the way Chanyeol holds him like it’s the only way for him to stay in control.

But Jongin doesn't care about control, and he licks his lips, taking pleasure in how Chanyeol watches as he does and swallows thickly, and he rubs his thumb adores the wet head of his dick, says, "Hurry _up_ , make me come."

Chanyeol’s eyes widen in surprise and that only makes Jongin blush, the ridiculousness of his words catching up to him. Before he can take them back, Chanyeol is pushing his legs up, pounding in deeper, and leaning in to catch Jongin’s mouth in a kiss that steals Jongin’s breath.

And he's coming like that, Chanyeol swallowing down his moan, and it’s only a few thrusts later that Chanyeol follows, too.

Jongin slowly catches his breath, uncurls his fingers from where he’s still gripping onto the backseat, surprised he didn’t pull the pocket straight off. He pokes at Chanyeol’s shoulder until Chanyeol moves, grunting when he hits his head against the lightswitch.

“That was a terrible idea,” Chanyeol says, rubbing his head. He pulls out of Jongin slowly, illiciting a gasp from Jongin, and removes the condom, knotting it at the end. He reaches over the console and grabs some napkins from the glove compartment, hands a few to Jongin who cleans himself up quickly and struggles to redress in the cramped space, frowning at the wrinkles in his shirt and hoping it’s not too obvious.

Chanyeol pulls himself back together as well, smoothing out his shirt where Jongin had pulled at the collar, lips pursed thoughtfully, and Jongin finds himself saying, “It wasn’t _all_ that terrible.”

Chanyeol pauses and looks at him, confused for a moment before his face breaks into one of his usual weird expressions, mouth stretching into a big grin. He laughs, reaches out and fixes Jongin’s hair, pushing back damp bangs and flattening the top, and replies, “You’re turning soft, Jongin.”

Jongin blinks at him, not sure what he means by that, and he’s too bewildered to even ask, when Chanyeol just smiles and pushes open the car door. “Come on,” he says, sliding out and holding a hand out for Jongin to take, “or we’re really going to be late,” and Jongin takes his hand and lets himself get pulled out of the car.

 

“I hear you and Chanyeol are dating,” Luhan says, grinning at Jongin through the mirror as he fixes his hair before a show.

Jongin chokes on the bottle of water he’s drinking, almost spilling water down the front of his shirt. Luhan quickly grabs a small towel and presses it to his chin while snickering, and Jongin glares at him as he wipes off, examining the shirt and heaving a sigh of relief that it’s not stained. Baekhyun would have murdered him.

“I’m gonna take your reaction as a yes, by the way,” Luhan says, returning to combing out Jongin’s hair.

“We’re _not_ ,” Jongin hisses. “I bet Sehun told you, and you should know better than to listen to anything he says.”

“He says you guys are annoyingly loud,” Luhan says pleasantly and Jongin thinks he’s going to have to find a new roommate after he kills Sehun. “Which is too much information if you ask me.”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “Please, you _love_ knowing this shit.”

Luhan smiles widely, the kind of smile most people think make him look like a precious angel, but Jongin’s known Luhan for years and it’s really the dangerous smile that tells him he knows more than lets on. “I’m just curious is all,” he says defensively, like it’s not his fault he’s a big gossipmonger. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s _friendly_.”

Jongin scowls, grabbing the hairspray on the counter and spraying it backward at Luhan’s face. He moves out of the way quickly, laughing, and pats Jongin’s head. “You’re kind of proving my point there,” he says and Jongin’s frown deepens. Luhan shakes his head bemusedly and adds, “You’re going to end up with that look permanently etched on your face if you keep doing it.”

“Leave me alone,” Jongin whines.

Luhan chuckles, flitting Jongin’s bangs across his forehead before stepping back to assess. He nods approvingly and waves Jongin out of the chair. "I think he might be good for you," he says before Jongin can leave, and he stops to stare at Luhan in confusion for a moment.

When his words finally click in his brain, his eyes widen and he pulls a face. "Ew, don't say that," he says. "It's not like I'm in love with him or anything."

“I’m serious,” Luhan insists, merely looking amused by the uninterest in Jongin’s face, “he’s pulled you out of your shell. You’re nice around all of us, but you’ve known us all for years, now. It’s the first time you’ve taken to a stranger the way you have with Chanyeol, and I like seeing that.”

Jongin purses his lips thoughtfully, because Luhan has a point, but he’s wrong, he definitely is, because it’s not like Jongin asked for Chanyeol to drastically turn his life around in a matter of weeks. “He just has this way of getting to me, I don’t know,” Jongin mutters, because most things about Chanyeol confuse him.

"Maybe so, but you still like him, don't you? No matter how much you may have convinced yourself otherwise," Luhan replies, and he pats Jongin’s shoulder as he shuffles by and leaves him to his conflicted thoughts.

He doesn’t get much time to think about it though because it is right before a show and Kyungsoo is there, pulling him into position at the front of the line by the stage entrance. Baekhyun is running around looking exceptionally frazzled and smacks Jongin upside the head when he tells him to calm down. Jongin just laughs, though, used to Baekhyun being insane right before shows, and he just takes slow breaths and smooths down the lapels on the black and white checkered patterned blazer he’s wearing.

“Hey,” says a familiar voice, appearing behind Jongin and making his heart jump. Chanyeol grins down at him with bright eyes, and he’s dressed in a red long-sleeved shirt that clings to his body and trousers that stop above his ankles that are such a deep green they’re almost black. He has suspenders reaching up from the waist over his shoulders and he keeps playing with them with his thumbs.

Jongin blinks up at him and says, “You cut your hair.”

Chanyeol laughs, reaching up to touch his newly trimmed bangs. It’s much shorter than when Jongin last saw him the previous weekend, sliding hands through long locks in the back seat of his car, and he swallows thickly, pushing that thought away. “Baekhyun said I was starting to look like a homeless puppy.”

Jongin snorts. “He was kind of right,” he says, and Jongin’s stomach twists as Chanyeol pouts cutely at him.

“So, what do you think?” he asks after a moment, and Jongin steps back to pretend to assess him fully, eyes wandering up and down his body, until Chanyeol laughs and shoves at his shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” Jongin says finally, even though what Jongin really thinks is that he looks very good, but Chanyeol smiles at him knowingly, leans down to whisper into Jongin’s ear, “Not as easy to hold onto, though, I’m sure, and I know how much you like that.”

Jongin steps on the toe of Chanyeol’s shoe in response and feigns innocence as Chanyeol yelps loudly in pain and Baekhyun turns sharply to glare at them both.

 

When Jongin wakes up Sunday morning, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he shuffles out to the kitchen, he doesn’t expect to find Chanyeol sitting at the kitchen table with a big smile on his face.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, wondering if he’s still asleep and this is some weird dream. Not that he dreams about Chanyeol, ever, of course not.

“I invited him over after the show last night,” Sehun says, and Jongin only then notices him, sitting at the other end of the table, waving a fork with bits of scrambled eggs in the air.

Jongin blinks, takes in Sehun’s devious grin, and then glances back over at Chanyeol who’s smile is far too cheery for ten in the morning. “I need coffee,” Jongin mutters, and ignores Sehun’s light chuckle as he pulls out a mug from the cupboard.

“Not a morning person, I take it,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin can hear the smirk in Sehun’s voice when he replies, “What gave that away?”

“Shut up, Sehun,” Jongin grumbles, taking a sip of coffee and nearly burning his tongue. He looks at Chanyeol over the rim as he can feel his gaze on him, but quickly turns away when their eyes meet.

“It’s cute,” Chanyeol says, and it’s definitely too early in the morning to be blushing.

“Chanyeol made pancakes,” Sehun says delightfully. “You should have some.”

“You invite him over and _he_ cooks?” Jongin questions, raising a brow at his roommate, and Sehun just shrugs, shoving pancake into his mouth to prevent from having to answer.

“I don’t mind,” Chanyeol says, “especially since he almost set a fire trying to make eggs.”

Jongin laughs as Sehun drops his head in embarrassment, and he pokes his friend in the back of the head as he passes him to sit down at the table. Chanyeol pushes a plate of pancakes covered in syrup over to him and Jongin eyes it warily.

“You didn’t poison it, did you?” he asks and both Sehun and Chanyeol laugh.

“Would we?” they ask innocently, and Jongin thinks that they most definitely would, but decides to take the risk.

Jongin’s surprised because it's really good, and he says around his mouthful, "Okay this, this is great."

"Ew, Jongin stop spitting your food everywhere," Sehun says, pulling his plate away, and Jongin just flushes and swallows, and takes another bite.

"I'm glad you like it," Chanyeol says happily, beaming at Jongin so brightly that Jongin can’t look at him for longer than a few seconds.

"I think he's in love," Sehun says, snickering, "a way to a man's heart really is through his stomach."

Jongin aims a kick at him, but ends up hitting the side of his chair and Sehun almost topples over with a scream, only barely managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. He shoots Jongin a glare, but Jongin just laughs, even though his face is burning in embarrassment from Sehun’s earlier words. He looks over at Chanyeol who has a considering look on his face as he stares at Jongin. “Don’t believe anything he says,” he says quickly, and Chanyeol blinks, jolting out of his thoughts, and then gives Jongin a soft smile that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

“If you say so,” he replies simply, and his eyes never leave Jongin’s, and Jongin bumps his knee against the table as he stands quickly to go get himself more coffee.

Jongin isn't sure how long Chanyeol plans on staying that day, but when he doesn't leave after breakfast, he figures he isn't going to any time soon. Jongin quietly goes to clean up, and Chanyeol rushes after to help, drying the dishes as Jongin finishes washing, and Sehun sits atop the counter and makes comments about them looking like such a cute couple that Jongin flicks soapy water at him.

Chanyeol just laughs and says, "It’s not like that," and Jongin who at times is terrible at catching most obvious human behaviors, doesn't miss the hint of disappointment in Chanyeol’s voice. He glances at him from the corner of his eye and when Chanyeol notices, the smile he gives Jongin isn't as bright as the ones Jongin’s become used to. But it’s gone in the next second and Chanyeol is swiping a bit of soap onto Jongin’s nose and guffawing, stomping his feet in mirth as Jongin glares, tries to wipe it away but only succeeds in swiping his soapy hands across his face and making even more of a mess.

Jongin retaliates by throwing water at him from the side of the sink and Chanyeol screeches as it gets all over the floor instead and he slips, crashing ungracefully into Jongin who instinctively catches him. He tenses and his heart is thumping loudly in his ears, and Chanyeol looks down at him in surprise as he slowly steadies himself, hands coming to rest on Jongin’s waist. He reaches out to wipe the soap suds from Jongin’s face and there’s a moment there where Jongin wants to kiss him.

"Ugh, if you guys are going to start making out then I'm leaving," Sehun says, breaking the moment, and Jongin jumps back like Chanyeol’s touch is fire.

"Well, this _is_ one place we haven't done it before,” Chanyeol says thoughtfully, smirking at Jongin whose face feels tomato-red.

“Keep it that way!” Sehun hollers as he heads back to his room, and Chanyeol laughs after him.

"You shouldn't say things like that, it only encourages him," Jongin says, sighing, as he crouches down to wipe up the spilled water with a dish towel. "He's probably calling Luhan right now, and oh god, he's going to be terrible the next time I see him."

"What do you mean?" Chanyeol says, gripping Jongin’s arm with a big hand when Jongin stumbles a bit standing back up.

"He asked me yesterday if we were dating," Jongin says, scrunching up his face like the thought makes him ill, and it does, but not because he's completely opposed to it or anything, but the fact that he's not. "I said no of course, but he seems convinced."

"Is that such a bad thing, if we were?” Chanyeol asks and his voice is small, uncertain, and it makes Jongin uneasy because Chanyeol is a constant bubble of irrepressible energy, with that obnoxiously loud voice and unbreakable confidence. It’s the first time he's seen him like this, looking at Jongin with soft, lost eyes, and it feels a bit like he's a puppy Jongin had just kicked.

"I-well, no,” Jongin starts, uneasiness slinking around in his stomach, “but I just thought this was, you know, nothing more than--"

"Casual fucking?" Chanyeol says and when put like that in that tiny voice, it makes Jongin wince, because for the first time he's wondering if that's really what Chanyeol wanted, when they got into to this, or if it had changed somewhere along the way and Jongin hadn't realized because Jongin is usually unreceptive to most things when it comes to relationships.

He doesn't know what to say, though, and just mutters, "Yes," because that _is_ what it's been for Jongin, at least whenever he ignores how much he really thinks about Chanyeol when he’s not around; his deep voice and warm hands and alarming smile and the way he makes Jongin so uncomfortable sometimes when they go out to eat, but later Jongin realizes how fun it may have actually been watching him talk with his cheeks puffed up and laughing over a joke Jongin said that no one else would ever laugh at and how he always seems to just twist and push and scratch and crawl his way under Jongin’s skin like he's a part of him, like he belongs there.

When Jongin ignores all of that then, yes, this has all just been casual sex.

"I see," Chanyeol says then, and his eyes drop to the floor. He steps back, sets the dish towel he'd been using to dry up onto the counter and adds, "I'm going to go. I'll see you...I’ll see you later."

And before Jongin even registers what's happened, Chanyeol is out of the kitchen, and he hears the front door open and close quickly after.

"Did he leave?" Sehun asks, suddenly walking in behind Jongin, and Jongin guesses he must've heard the door shut. He looks at Jongin who is rooted to the spot, his fingers twisting the towel tight in his hands, and Sehun waves hand before his face in concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Jongin doesn’t answer, because he’s not at all sure himself and the only thing he can think about is what Luhan had told him the night before, about how Chanyeol is actually good for him, and Jongin wonders if maybe he was right, and that perhaps he had just done terrible damage to maybe the best thing that's happened to him in a long time.

 

Jongin doesn't hear from Chanyeol for almost a week, which is a lot considering how Jongin had gotten used to him texting him stupid thing with too many emoticons at every hour of the day ever since he'd gotten a hold of Jongin’s phone number (by swiping his phone from his hand and calling himself while Jongin unsuccessfully tried to stop him).

He knows that maybe he messed up, but he doesn't really know why he _cares_ because Chanyeol is still... _Chanyeol_ , and he's still a bundle of things Jongin isn't used to and doesn't like. And yet he calls him a few times everyday, feeling like someone is twisting his heart in his chest whenever the call goes to voicemail, Chanyeol’s cheery message like a kick to the gut.

"What did you do to Chanyeol?" Yifan asks him when he and Jongin meet up for a photoshoot Friday afternoon. He looks at Jongin with intense eyes and a frown on his face and Jongin feels like a little kid getting in trouble for bullying.

"Nothing!" he says but it comes out like a squeak and Jongin flushes under Yifan's unwavering stare.

"Then care to explain why he's been moping about for a week like he was just dumped?"

"Does _everyone_ think we’re dating?!" Jongin exclaims because this was supposed to be a secret goddammit.

"Yes," Yifan replies easily, and his lips twitch in amusement before retreating back into stern lines. "Which is why I'm asking you what you did. Now tell me."

He sounds like an overprotective police officer interrogating a criminal suspect and Jongin tries not to cower under Yifan's heated gaze and looming height. "Nothing, really," he says again, and it’s more like he's trying to convince himself. He turns away, examines himself in the mirror and frowns at the tiny bump of a zit working its way onto his chin. "We just had a misunderstanding."

"Then fix it," Yifan says, his voice demanding no protests. "He's driving me insane with all his sighing and sulking and those creepy smiles he makes when he tries to pretend like nothing is wrong." Now he just sounds aggravated, if slightly worried, and Jongin remembers that he and Chanyeol are good friends, and wonders if what Jongin said to Chanyeol to make him act this way was bad enough that it’s making Yifan concerned.

Jongin sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and he remembers clearly the look Chanyeol had given him in his kitchen, and his stomach knots painfully like it has been ever since that morning. "I'm not really sure how," Jongin admits after a moment, and only because he knows Yifan won't make fun of him for it, like his other friends might, using the opportunity to poke fun of Jongin’s terrible people skills.

Yifan just laughs a bit, coming up beside Jongin and peering into the mirror as well, brushing a finger across his eyebrows with a look of pure concentration in his face. "Usually an apology is a good place to start," Yifan replies and his eyes are teasing as he meets Jongin’s gaze through their reflections. He straightens up and adds, pulling down on the hem of the pinstripe blazer he's wearing that with the matching trousers and his hair slicked up makes him look a bit like a mafia boss. “Do you know why Chanyeol stopped modeling?” Yifan asks, and it’s so sudden that Jongin stares at him in the mirror for a long moment before shaking his head.

“No, he never told me.” Jongin had wanted to ask, on many occasions, but ever since the first time that he did, he felt that it wasn’t something Chanyeol wanted to talk about.

Yifan sighs. “He was pushed out, by a lot of models who worked with him, a few years ago.” His expression grows dark like he’s recalling a bad memory. “They didn't like him much, how he was so good at what he did. How he would get show opens and all the ads and shoots and they'd have to watch from the side.”

Jongin remembers back when he met Chanyeol, how he'd looked so concerned that Jongin thought he was taking his spot. How he'd come to talk to him just to make sure Jongin didn't dislike him.

Yifan looks at Jongin in the mirror and continues, “He didn't want to be driven out but Chanyeol...Chanyeol’s the kind of person who just wants people to like him. He’s kind of obnoxious that way, over-friendly.”

“Tell me about it,” Jongin mutters, which makes Yifan smile.

“Maybe it sounds stupid, and I even told him it was stupid, but he decided to stop. He kept saying he needed a break.” Yifan shrugs and sighs again. “He came to work for Baekhyun again because he asked, but really he just missed modeling.”

Jongin licks his lips and asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand?” Yifan stares thoughtfully up at the ceiling, and then back at Jongin with a small smile. “He’s overly friendly but that also means he gets hurt easily, especially when he’s not sure where he stands with someone,” he says, and Jongin’s heart grinds to a halt, because he hadn’t ever considered that. "You might've been okay with whatever it is you two were doing, but I'm sure its different for him, now, and you should figure out a way to make it work, or give it up."

Jongin thinks about Chanyeol and his deep, rumbling voice, and his big steady hands, and his sort of lopsided facial expressions, and how his hair feels under his fingertips and the smoothness of his tongue,the soft heat of his skin. He thinks about the nonsensical messages he gets, and the way he rests his hand on Jongin’s knee whenever they drive somewhere, and how he smiles at him and says his name and Jongin doesn’t think that this is something he wants to give up.

He turns around and looks at Yifan fully and says, with more bravado than anything else, "I’ll see what I can do."

 

Three days of waffling and being completely ignored by Chanyeol during a small runway show leaves Jongin feeling even worse than before, an unease settling into the pit of his stomach. He hates the prospect of talking to him, even though he hated being ignored so much more, didn’t realize he'd care that much. Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave thing like this? Just go back to how things were and pretend that Chanyeol hadn't swept in out of nowhere and made his life a right mess.

But somehow he finds himself standing outside of the door to Chanyeol’s apartment late Tuesday night, having spent the whole day debating whether or not to come over, and he stares at the deep burgundy carpet of the hallway and mutters under his breath the very vague speech he’d come up with in his head on the way over here. He realizes quickly that he’s being ridiculous and finally musters up the courage to knock.

Waiting for Chanyeol to answer is the longest few moments of Jongin’s life, and Chanyeol looks incredibly surprised to find him standing on the other side of the door, his cheerful smile slowly fading into confusion.

“H-Hi,” Jongin says carefully. He wets his lips, keeps his gaze steady, and asks, “C-Can we talk?”

Chanyeol eyes him in a way that makes Jongin’s skin crawl, or maybe it’s just because Chanyeol avoided him so clearly the other day, and it’s been awhile since they’ve been this close to one another in nearly two weeks. He almost thinks Chanyeol is going to say no, maybe slam the door in his face, but he nods and steps back, holding the door open for Jongin to enter. His shoulder brushes against Chanyeol’s chest, as he shuffles past, and the contact makes his skin burn through the thin fabric of their shirts, and Jongin slips out of his shoes and follows Chanyeol into the kitchen.

“Do you want some tea or something?” Chanyeol asks and his voice is guarded. He doesn’t look at Jongin.

“Sure,” Jongin says, even though he doesn’t think he can keep anything down, nervousness bubbling inside of him. He wrings his hands together and licks his lips again. “Chanyeol, I--” he starts, and everything he’d thought to say earlier has vanished from his brain. He sighs, scratches the back of his neck.

“Why are you here, Jongin?” Chanyeol asks and he doesn’t sound angry just curious, but he still won’t look at Jongin, focusing on a spot above Jongin’s left shoulder.

Jongin replies, “Why won’t you look at me?” and it comes out sounding much more like a four year old whining than he intended, and he flushes a little. When Chanyeol slides his gaze over, it deepens, and he wishes he hadn’t said anything, but the words just keep coming out from his mouth. “You...the, the other day, you did the same thing. You didn’t say a word to me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chanyeol asks, and the look in his eyes is sad, and Jongin doesn’t like it. It doesn’t suit him, he thinks, this person who is so usually bright and full of life.

Jongin opens his mouth to refute instinctively that it’s not, but it _is_ and he knows it. He knows what he said that made Chanyeol back away, put all this space between them that Jongin thought, at first, he wanted, but no longer recalls why. “It is,” he mutters, and he looks away finally, because the sadness in Chanyeol’s eyes is too much. He rubs his face and groans, and says from behind his fingers, “I’m sorry, I’m just...I’m just not good at this, I--”

His words are cut off by Chanyeol’s sudden laughter, and it easily breaks the tension in the air, even if Jongin isn’t sure what’s so funny. He pouts, watching as Chanyeol’s shoulders shake in mirth, and he looks the happiest Jongin has seen in awhile, which makes his heart beat faster.

When his laughter subsides, he looks back up at Jongin, and his eyes are dancing happily. “Oh, Jongin,” he says, shaking his head, “I already knew _that_.” His smile is fond, and Jongin’s cheek fill with heat again.

“Then--” Jongin starts but words fail him again and he huffs, frustrated, because he doesn’t know what he wants, what he should say, what he can do to make this better.

Chanyeol’s smile fades and he rubs at the side of his face with his fingers. He sighs and says, “It’s okay, you know, if you don’t really like me,” and Jongin feels his heart slowly sink down into his stomach because wait, no, that’s not it, that’s not it at all. “I think maybe this...this between us, it’d just be easier if we didn’t really do that, anymore.”

Jongin’s fingers clench into fists, nails digging into his palms, and it’s all he can do to keep from exclaiming _No_ , because that isn’t what he wants at all, and from the miserable look on Chanyeol’s face, it’s clear that Chanyeol doesn’t, either. Jongin takes a deep breath and steps closer to Chanyeol, who instinctively steps away, and it’s so much like that first night they meet, where Jongin was still so unsure and pulling away, because Chanyeol was so loud and irrepressible and all these things Jongin didn’t get. Even now he doesn’t understand him, not really, and even now Jongin is so unsure, but he thinks maybe, maybe he could take a risk.

“I-I know what I said last time...I know I probably shouldn’t have said that,” Jongin says and he stares at the tiled floor and Chanyeol’s bare feet instead of at Chanyeol’s face, and his fingers and pressing in so deep that he’s sure he might start bleeding.

“You were just being truthful,” Chanyeol says softly. “And it’s not that, it wasn’t even about that.”

“Then _what_?” Jongin asks, his confusion pushing at his anger and his whole body feels tense because nothing makes sense. “Then why were you avoiding me, this past week? Why didn’t you answer any of my calls, or send your stupid messages, or come over and drag me out for lunch just because you--”

Once again Jongin’s words are cut off, but this time by Chanyeol’s warm lips pressing up against his own and making it impossible to speak. He groans, instead, and his stiffens further, tight like a bowstring. And Chanyeol kisses him slowly, coaxing, and his hands slide down Jongin’s arms and curl around his clenched fingers and Jongin relaxes, gives in, lips parting to kiss Chanyeol back, and oh god, did he miss this. It hasn’t really been that long, and yet, he really missed this.

Chanyeol shudders a laugh into his mouth when he pulls away, like everything about this situation is funny to him, and his eyes bore into Jongin’s as he says, “I _like_ you, that’s why. I like you a little too much, probably.”

“So ignoring me was your grand solution to that?” Jongin says, only he sounds slightly giddy and his face feels red with embarrassment, and Chanyeol’s smile is so blinding. “Stupid.”

“I just didn’t think I could do this anymore,” Chanyeol admits, “I didn’t think you would care if I stopped.”

“ _So_ stupid,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol’s lips ghost against his, his breath hot on his chin. “I wouldn’t be here, if I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have called you, if I didn’t care.” He swallows the thickness in his throat, and he weaves his fingers together with Chanyeol’s, their palms pressed tight. “I _do_ like you, idiot. I don’t fuck around with someone I don’t like.”

“Good,” Chanyeol says and then they’re kissing again, and it’s much fiercer than before, it’s nearly two weeks worth of frustrations and longing and confusion put together, and it tingles deep down in Jongin’s bones. He slips his hands from Chanyeol’s to clutch instead at the front of his shirt, and Chanyeol steps forward at bit, getting closer, much closer, and Jongin gasps when his back hits the counter.

Chanyeol steadies him with hands on his waist, and Jongin’s missed the feel of his hands, larger than his and always so sure, holding him close as he grinds against him, and they both groan into each other’s mouths. Jongin slides a hand up into Chanyeol’s hair, and Chanyeol really was right, before, because it’s definitely not as easy to hold onto so short, and he rests his hand against the back of his neck, thumb turning circles into the soft skin there. It draws a shuddering breath from Chanyeol who rocks against him again, with intent, and Jongin feels like the past week never even happened. He breaks away long enough to catch his breath, to look into Chanyeols face and see the intensity there like he hasn't in a long time, and he tugs open Chanyeol’s belt quickly, head tilting back as Chanyeol works slick lips and hot tongue down his throat.

Chanyeol’s groan sounds almost explosive in the silent kitchen when Jongin gets a hand around him, and Jongin will never admit how much he missed that low voice, how it coils around his body and makes him burn, slow like the flickering of a candle, and Jongin just always wants to hear it more, and more. Maybe Chanyeol knows it because he doesn't keep quiet, or maybe that's just because he's been longing for this too, maybe even more than Jongin, because Chanyeol almost gave it up, gave it up because he didn't think Jongin cared enough and he was willing to deal with that. And Jongin can't believe that yet, can't believe they were both so stupid, and just maybe, maybe if he'd realized sooner this would all have been easier.

"Stop thinking," Chanyeol murmurs into Jongin’s ear, "just stop thinking."

"If it bothers you, then do something about it," Jongin hisses back, and he doesn't really expect Chanyeol to do anything, except then he's being pulled by the wrist right out of the kitchen. Chanyeol only seems to manage to drag him as far as the couch, pushing him down onto the soft cushions and following after, his long limbs too much for the small furniture, but he straddles Jongin’s hips and grins at him from above and it doesn't matter, Jongin likes the closeness anyway.

His hands find Chanyeol’s waist, tracing a finger along the smooth along of his stomach between his open waistband and the hem of his shirt and he can feel Chanyeol’s sigh throughout his body. Then Chanyeol is pulling Jongin’s shirt up over his head and leaning in to kiss him again and their erections rub together between them, and god Jongin wants to be much closer than this.

"Just, quick, I--" Jongin tries, his words tumbling over each other as his mind goes dizzy from the pleasant weight of Chanyeol’s body against his, the heat of his breath, the sound of his voice. Thankfully Chanyeol seems to understand and soon they're fitting back together, skin against skin, clothes discarded to the floor, and Jongin is pressing two slick fingers into Chanyeol, who precariously holds himself up over him.

"Fuck me," he whispers, soon after, and its a sound Jongin will never forget, sinking its way deep into his heart, and he does, watching as Chanyeol grips his shoulder and lowers himself down onto Jongin’s cock. It's deliciously tight and Jongin’s moan might shame him on another day, but right now he is too far gone to care, and he digs his fingers into Chanyeol’s hip as he waits for him to move.

Once he does, Jongin knows he won't last long, not like this when he can drink up the sight of Chanyeol fucking himself on his cock, a red flush spreading down his neck to his collarbones, eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks. His mouth is parted with endless soft gasps, his lips wet, and Jongin reaches up to pull him down with a hand behind his neck. Their kiss is languid and deep and it makes Jongin’s heartbeat thrum in his ears, and he's so very close now. He wraps a hand around Chanyeol’s dick and pulls him off with quick strokes until he's coming over his belly, and crying out into the apartment, and Jongin makes it until Chanyeol breathes his name over and over into the shell of his ear before he comes, too.

They lie there for awhile afterward, in a way they didn’t do much before, exchanging slow kisses as they come down, Jongin’s arms winding around Chanyeol’s back as he trembles slightly. He catches sight of a clock on the wall, and it’s not yet late enough that he couldn’t catch the train back home, if he wanted, just like he would have before. Chanyeol notices his gaze, and he grows suddenly stiff, but Jongin licks his lips and asks, a little anxiously as his face reddens, “Can I stay the night?”

And the look Chanyeol gives him, full of surprise, then sheer happiness, is one Jongin wants to remember forever. “Yes,” he says, and kisses him.

 

Chanyeol’s laughter makes Jongin smile into his mouth, pull him close and kiss him deeper, and he slips his hands into the back pockets of Chanyeol’s skin-tight leather pants.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Baekhyun’s voice cuts through the air, and Chanyeol quickly pulls apart as he’s undoubtedly smacked across the back of the head. He whines pitifully and pouts at Baekhyun, who looks murderous, but Jongin notices the way his lips twitch upward in amusement as he glances between them. “Leave that for home, okay, not right before a goddamn show.”

“Just wishing each other good luck,” Jongin says, and flushes when they both turn to look at him. Chanyeol smiles, though, and reaches for his hand.

“Good luck. Right,” Baekhyun says slowly, like Jongin is an idiot, but Jongin knows that Baekhyun’s secretly pleased by his and Chanyeol’s...development. “Now come on, we have a show to do.” He gives them both a stern look before rushing off to prepare, and Jongin waits until he disappears to turn back to Chanyeol with a sheepish look.

“Guess we better be more careful,” Chanyeol says, amused, and his hand is so warm in Jongin’s as he leads them back up to the stage entrance.

“Who cares,” Jongin replies, and he smooths out the spots where Chanyeol’s shirt has bunched up from earlier. “Everyone knows anyway.” He sighs.

“Does that bother you?” Chanyeol asks hesitantly, and Jongin looks straight at him, and shakes his head.

“Not anymore,” he says, and smiles.


End file.
